Storm (Swipe Series)

common.”
    “You and I are nothing alike!” Logan said again, more resolved this time. “Trumpet may kill me yet . . . but that is not the story of me.”
    “No. Of course not,” Lamson said. “Please, remind me—what is it again? The story of you? Ah, yes— Swipe . How cute.”
    Logan took another step back.
    Lamson licked his dry, chapped lips. His mouth hung slightly open, his jaw slack. He breathed loudly through his mouth. “Your sister . . . ,” he said, already growing weaker. “Your sister has betrayed us, I’m afraid.”
    “She’s betrayed you !” Logan said. “Not me! You were the one planning the drought. I was the one who stopped it!”
    “Logan!” Lamson said. “How are you not seeing this? We havethe same goals, you and I. The same strategies, the same enemies, the same failings—”
    “You’re delirious!” Logan cried. “You’re not thinking straight! Your words mean nothing!”
    “I’m a man in his death throes,” Lamson said. “My words mean a great deal.”
    He smirked, his lips cracking as he did. And for a moment, he stood.
    “At the end of the Total War, Logan, two great leaders rose up. That was only natural, of course. The greater the crisis, the greater the power of the person who solves it. That is how it’s always been.
    “In America, separated states were no longer an option. A conclusion you’d have come to yourself, I am sure, had you found yourself in my position. Unity was . . . a worthy goal.
    “But the Mark came a little later. The Mark was my peace offering—my appeasement—to the great man across the sea. At the time, I had limited options: I could take this bruised and battered country, and set it against Cylis with all our remaining military might—a plan that would certainly have resulted in the death of us all. Or, I could stand my ground politically: stand up to him with sanctions and posturing. A losing proposition, it seemed, given Cylis’s unparalleled charisma and charm—an advantage I myself have never had.
    “Or, last, I could align myself with the man. I could sing his praises, and I could take up his Pledge, and I could encourage all of you to do the same. I could make that one grand gesture—harmless enough, it seemed, at the time—and I could keep the peace across our world.” Lamson sighed now, sinking back into his high, swiveling throne. “But one appeasement led to another.And then the treaty came along. And I must admit, I did fall for that. To be Cylis’s equal, to share this Global Union with him . . . why, finally, the rivalry could end! True Unity would save us after all.” A shivering spell ran through Lamson now. He paused. “I should have known Cylis never had that vision in mind. From the Mark, to DOME, to Acheron, to Project Trumpet, to the weather mill . . . he’d spent ten years building a great machine—a tremendous, ingenious machine. And at any point, whenever the time was right, he could set his gears into motion, and that machine could conquer this land once and for all . . . without any of us ever seeing it coming. Without any of us ever even knowing it had happened, once it had.
    “Logan,” Lamson said. “Cylis is a great many things, but he is careful never to catch himself in an outright lie.”
    “No . . . ,” Logan said, already denying it.
    “Yes. It is true. You did release Project Trumpet. Its activation protein is delivered in water. The Trumpet was the rain. Don’t you see? Those canisters you sent soaring all across this country, in direct defiance of my wishes and request? They were the poison that felled us all. They were the point of this whole deadly thing! And you, my friend, were the carrier.”
    Logan tried to swallow, but couldn’t. He tried to speak, but stuttered. Tunnel vision crept in from the corners, and the whole room seemed darker and darker.
    The general continued. “It is true, partially, what you know about my involvement. All those years ago, I did green-light the production of the nanovirus known as Trumpet, along with the vaccination of all Marked citizens. I am a general, after all, not a pacifist. I had a fragile nation to consider. I had Marked citizens to protect.”
    The general shook his head now, a look of horror showing clearly even through his weariness. “But last August, I discovered that the chancellor had modified Trumpet’s activation protein in his laboratories overseas. He had flipped it, redesigning it, instead, to target our vaccine. To